Road's End
by Kizmet
Summary: [UltX] Random Walk 1: Remy runs into more trouble than he can handle, forcing him to accept Prof. X's offer of assistance. Last chapter posted.
1. 1 of 13

The chain-link fence loomed up in front of him.  Barbwire glinted in the streetlights, three wires, leaning outward, discouraging casual trespassers.  Of course it was a more effective barrier if you were on the outside.  The boy never hesitated, sprinting flat out, his trench coat flying behind him he leapt and caught the top of the chain-link, planted his feet against the fence, then vaulted into a back flip over the barbwire.  He stumbled as he landed, his red-on-black eyes narrowing with pain but kept running.

Behind him the fence was torn asunder by an explosion.  Three menacing forms appeared through the smoke.

"Which way did he go?" the woman demanded, green and white hair whipping around her as she scanned the night.  "I lost sight of him in the explosion."

"What did you want me to do about the fence?" the short, squat, black haired man demanded irritably.

"I expect you to think, Harpooner!" the larger man growled.  "The kid's on good terms with the shadows, we need our night vision to follow him."

"At least he didn't get a car this time Scalphunter," the woman said.  "I'm sick of hunting him from city to city.  When are we going to get permission to just kill the little brat?"

"Not yet, Vertigo.  The boss wants him alive… all those test he couldn't run on the kid while he was on the pay-roll… but the kid's slippery," Scalphunter replied.

"We got him cornered this time," Harpooner said confidently.

"Like in Chicago?" Vertigo asked.  "Gambit might talk like an ignorant hick, but he isn't dumb.  He found our weak link and exploited Scrambler for all he was worth."

Several dozen meters away the object of their chase forced himself to keep up a rough jog, despite the pain in his ankle.

"De airport's a bien place t' find a car, but she's too far out, never make it back t' de city proper for dey catch me," he muttered as he ran.  "Dere be people at de terminal.  Too much security for m' taste an' I won' blend in, but mebbe dey won' want de attention a big to-do dere would get."

He slowed as he approached the better-lit areas near the runways, straining his senses for any sign of his pursuers, searching for a discreet way across the all but endless open tarmac.

Then like the answer to a prayer, he noticed a man using a pair of lit signaling rods to direct a plane.

"Dieu, hope I don' cause a crash-up wid dis stunt," Gambit whispered, taking several cards from his pocket and quickly folding them into a rough approximation of the traffic director's batons.  Then he tied the ends of his coat around his waist, trying to mimic the silhouette of the jackets the airport workers wore.  Using his powers to light up his cards he walked boldly out into the open, hoping he looked like he belonged there.

Feeling like he had a target on the center of his chest, Gambit kept walking toward the buildings, waiting for an attack.  Closer to the terminal he let the cards dissolve into ash, to better blend in with the ground crews, but still keeping far enough away that they wouldn't see through his disguise and raise the alarm.  If that happened he'd be done for long before the airport security arrived.  If he were lucky he'd be dead by then rather than captured.

A luggage train whirled by and Gambit jumped on board, crouching down, loosing himself in among the suitcases.  Once inside the buildings he darted into the shadows, unnoticed.

Finding an inactive conveyor system, Gambit climbed through it, into the terminal.  As he'd guessed, almost everyone's attention was focused on the active systems, their eyes focused on the myriad of bags, trying to pick out their own, worrying about what the airlines might have done to them.

The exception was an eight-year-old boy who stared straight at Gambit with a mixture of awe and jealousy.  "Mommy, I wanna do that!" The boy began.

"Not now Jeffy," his mother said distractedly.

Hopping off the conveyor belt, Gambit smiled brilliantly at the boy.  He set a finger to his lips, silently entreating the child to keep his secret.

The boy grinned back and gestured zipping his lips.

Gambit faded into the crowd, straightening his trench coat, trying to look like a student who was into grunge rather than like he'd been living on the streets for better than a year now.

As he worked his way toward the exit several wallets found their way into his hands.  He hoped they'd have enough cash in them to pay for a taxi.  That should let him slip free of the noose slowly closing around his neck.

Several yards short of the doors he picked out a voice raised in angry discourse.  Gambit turned and headed back into the airport.  "Merci Arclight," he thought to himself.  "Yo' nevah could keep yo' mouth shut."

****                            ******                        *****                      

"He got past you here, just like he got past you last time!" Arclight yelled.  "Scalphunter says he's in the terminal, you were supposed to keep him in the open!"

The smallish, nondescript man glared up at his irritable, purple haired companion.  "He's still trapped.  Hell, this is better.  Watch this."

With that the man known as Scrambler walked over to the nearest security officer.  "Excuse me," he said.

The officer glanced at him with a helpful expression.

"This kid stole my wallet," Scramble explained.   "About fifteen, five foot, eight, trench coat, stringy red-brown hair and eyes like a demon.  I think he's one of those muties."

"We'll find him," the officer promised flipping on his radio.  "Just come to the security office with me, you can wait there."

Scrambler smiled smugly at Arclight as the guard led him off, relaying Gambit's description to the rest of the airport's security personnel.

                        ******                        *******                      ******

The police-types were looking for someone.  Paranoia being Remy's chief survival tactic, he assumed it was him.

Remy wandered up and down the promenade, sticking to the crowds, keeping his head down, letting his longish hair fall into his face obscuring his distinctive eyes.

The airport had been designed with security in mind.  There were few points of egress open to the public.  Between the airport's security and the Marauders the whole place was bottled up.  Trying to get out the way he'd gotten in would probably get him caught with the alert on and even if it didn't he'd still be trapped too far from any decent sort of cover.

"Nine weeks of runnin' and dis is what it comes down to," Remy muttered under his breath.  "Trapped like a rat in a maze, plenty of places to run, but no way out."

Unconsciously his hand found it's way into a pocket, absently his fingers brushed across a battered business card.  Remy pulled it out and stared at the number, wondering how he'd failed to loose the little card in the six months since it had been given to him.

"When you can't run anymore, come to me," a voice echoed in his mind.  "We can help you."

Remy shook his head, trying to clear the voice away.  That hadn't been what the odd pair had said to him that night, but it didn't make the voice any less real.

Seeing a security guard headed his way, Remy slid into a phone stall, still fingering the card.  Dialing the number seemed the most natural thing in the world to do.

"Xavier School for Higher Learning, Scott speaking."  The voice was crisp, professional, but still young.

"Gave me a cahd, said I could come, if I needed help…" Remy said uncertainly.

"Of course, where are you?" Scott asked.

"Portland, de airport," Remy answered and the spell that had convinced him they could save him shattered.  "And yo' in N'York, on de other side of de country.  Can't do nothin' to help.  Why I even call?"

"No, just wait…" Scott tried to interrupt.

"Not goin' back wid dem, not evah…. I'm Remy Lebeau from N'Leans, I… I… jus' someone 'member I was alive."

"Remy!" Scott said sharply.  "We're coming, we've got jet, we'll get there, just hang on for a little bit longer.  We'll get there, I swear."

"Little bit longer, 'kay.  Do my best.  Don' really want to die," Remy said nodding slightly as he hung up the phone.

Remy rejoined the dwindling crowds.

                        *****                          ******                        ******

"We've got a mission folks," Scott said tapping his comm. badge.  "Meet me in the hanger post haste.  I'll explain on the way."

"Scott, Peter and I are in town visiting Bobby," Jean replied in his mind.  "It's going to take us awhile to get back."

"We'll do without you," Scott said.  "We're on the clock with this one."

"Hank and I are on our way," Ororo reported.

"What's keeping you Scotty?" Wolverine asked sarcastically.

"I've detected a number of mutant signatures in the designated area," Professor Xavier projected.  "They are hunting our caller, use extreme caution confronting them."

"Did you pick-up anything on Remy?"  Scott asked as the elevator descended to the hanger level.

"No, the boy is a telepathic ghost."

"But you picked him up before," Scott argued.  "When you gave him your card."

"Yes, if it's the boy I think it is, he was very angry then.  Looking to be found, now he's all but invisible.  A will-o-wisp seen out of the corner of the eye, when I try to get a fix on his thoughts he vanishes."

Scott stepped into the hanger to see Wolverine leaning nonchalantly against the blackbird.  A few moments later he heard Storm and Beast coming from the direction of the danger room.

"Everyone strap in," Cyclops ordered taking the controls.  "We're going to Oregon, a rescue and retrieval mission.  The opposition is someone new.  Mutant, but neither the Brotherhood or the Acolytes kill people who turn down the recruitment speech."


	2. 2 of 13

**Road's End 2/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from Marvel, no money is being made.

"Nowhere left to run kid," Scalphunter said. Remy's position, back pressed against the terminal's windows at the end of a deathly quiet wing, was proof of that statement. 

"The others are coming, we've been herding you for hours," he continued. "It's over kid, might as well just give up and come quietly. Maybe he'll go easy on you." 

"Like he did for de others, de people I sent to him?" Remy asked, sarcasm a thin veil over guilt and terror. 

Scalphunter shrugged, acknowledging the truth they both knew. "You shouldn't of betrayed him. Your talents could of kept you on his good side indefinitely, but he can't trust you now, not after that stunt you pulled." 

"I'm nevah goin' back," Remy said quietly. 

"You don't have a choice," Scalphunter replied taking a step toward the boy. 

Remy charged and threw a card at him. 

With a grin Scalphunter dodged back. "You're going to run out of ammo soon enough boy," he said surveying the scorched floor between them. "Then what'll you do?" 

"I bring de whole damn building down on us if I have to!" Remy threatened. "Yo' just stay 'way, or I kill us all!" 

High above, Beast directed his companion's attention to an explosion that blew out the windows at the end of one wing of the terminal. "I believe that is our cue," he said. 

"Wolverine, take point," Cyclops ordered, bringing the blackbird to a standstill hovering along side of the blasted windows. 

Wolverine, followed closely by Beast and Strom ran across the Blackbird's wing and leapt into the building as Cyclops set the plane on automatic then joined them. 

They found Scalphunter and Arclight being held at bay by several feet of glowing flooring surrounding Remy's kneeling form. 

"Kill us all," The boy mumbled swaying with exhaustion. 

"The boss wants him alive," Scalphunter reminded his teammate. "Pull back, I ain't pressing this till I get Sinister's okay." 

"No!" Arclight snapped. "I've had it with chasing the damn gutter-rat all over the country." 

"You want the kid, you go through me," Wolverine declared unsheathing his claws. 

Arclight grinned with anticipation. 

"Not now!" Scalphunter ordered. "Gambit won't be able to hold his charge much longer and I'd rather die with him than go back to Sinister with his body. We were told to take him alive." 

"Rain check cutey?" Arclight said turning to follow Scalphunter out. 

"That was surprisingly easy," Beast said turning to Remy. "You can turn off the pyrotechnics now, they're gone." 

The boy turned toward the X-men, the strain of holding back the eminent explosion apparent in his face. 

"Too late," Wolverine guessed, diving toward the boy. His momentum carried them both away from the charged patch of flooring as the other X-men ran for cover. 

An impressive explosion rocked the building, leaving behind a six-foot hole in the airport floor. 

"Everyone okay?" Cyclops asked. 

"More or less," Beast answered. 

"I think my eardrums popped," Storm yelled. 

"Logan? Remy?" Scott asked. 

"Scorched but I've been worse," Logan answered. "Got the kid clear of the worst of it, but he's out cold." ****** ****** ****** 

"How is he?" Scott asked as soon as Jean and Xavier left the school's infirmary. 

Logan and Peter also awaited the news. 

Xavier looked toward Logan, "The explosion didn't touch him. His only injury was a badly sprained ankle. However I'd imagine that the boy has been running more on adrenalin than food for some time. I doubt he's slept much recently either." 

"He passed out because of low blood sugar," Jean added with a shrug. "Food and rest are all he really needs." 

Scott sighed with relief, slumping back against the wall. "I was afraid we got there too late." 

"You couldn't have done better," Xavier said firmly. "I approached Remy months ago but he simply could bring himself to ask for help until the situation was desperate." 

"I know Sir," Scott replied. "Still he hardly looks older than Bobby." 

"Even so, we couldn't have forced him to accept our help," Xavier replied. 

"Has anyone tried to find his family?" Peter asked. 

"Kid was on the streets before this mess started," Logan commented. "Might be a good idea to find why before we tell his folks where to find him." ****** ****** ****** 

Three days after Remy's arrival, Peter stood staring into the refrigerator, certain he was hungry, but undecided as to what he actually wanted to eat when an unexpected noise sounded behind him. 

He turned and stared. Remy stood leaning heavily against the door jam, wearing his trench coat over a hospital gown, one boot on, the other dangling loosely in his hand as if he hadn't been able to decide what to do with it after discovering that it wouldn't fit over his bandaged foot. 

"You shouldn't be out of the Med Lab," Peter said. To his shock the younger boy's dark eyes filled with terror and the boot in his hand began to glow. 

"Professor, we have a problem," Peter yelled, changing to his metallic form. 

"Stay out of my head!" Remy exclaimed a moment later, throwing the charged boot at Peter. 

The Russian's steel form wasn't harmed by the blast, but the kitchen wall took a beating. 

"Reaching his mind is like trying to grasp fog," Xavier projected. "I can't help." 

Remy lunged into the room, grabbing a picture off the wall before his injured leg gave out beneath him. 

Logan walked in from the backyard; he glanced from Remy to Peter to the abused wall. "Try not to blow up too much of the house," he said, sounding only mildly interested in the situation. "Forecast said it's going to rain." 

Remy turned to him frowning in confusion as the near mindless terror faded from his eyes. "Not going back to him or his labs," he stated. 

"Him who?" Logan asked conversationally. 

"Essex, Sinister," Remy hissed his voice thick with hate. 

"I'll remember that if I ever meet him," Logan promised. "Interesting fashion statement you're making." 

Uncertainly Remy glanced down at what he was wearing, the glow of his power fading from the picture in his hand. "No labs," he reiterated. 

"Sure kid," Logan replied. "As long as you're up, you want some food?" 

"S' fine," Remy answered. 

"Pete, make a sandwich or something," Logan ordered. "Kid, you want a hand getting to the table?" 

"Don' need no help!" Remy protested hobbling painfully to a chair. Logan snorted disbelievingly 

A moment later Scott and Jean ran into the room. Remy tensed again. 

"Take it easy kid," Logan said. "If you're gonna blow up the house people are gonna get excited. You two, everything's under control. Why don't you scat?" 

"He shouldn't be out of bed," Jean said frowning. 

"You said all he needed was food and rest, Jeannie," Logan pointed out. "He's here, let him eat." 

"Come on Jean," Scott said taking her elbow. "Remy doesn't need a bunch of people hanging around making him nervous." 

"What do I care if his foot ever heals or if he brings the roof down on all our heads," Jean exclaimed letting Scott lead her away. 

Peter set a sandwich in front of Remy, and then, deciding to take his cue from Logan who'd picked up a section of the paper and was pointedly ignoring the boy, he turned back to his examination of the refrigerator. 

After finishing his meal, Remy glared suspiciously from Logan to Peter. Realizing that they weren't paying attention to him, Remy slumped in his chair, blinking tiredly, trying to decide on the best course of action. A few minutes later his head tilted back against the chair's backrest as he fell asleep. 

Logan put down the paper. "I'm putting him in one the rooms upstairs," he said softly, picking Remy up. "Go find some crutches for him. He might be more rational if he doesn't wake up feeling trapped." 

"Sure," Peter agreed. "I have to say I'm surprised at how easily you managed him." 

"Oh, this kid's going to be a barrel of laughs when he actually manages to wake-up," Logan predicted. ****** ****** ***** 

Scott paused for a moment outside of Xavier's office, waiting permission to come in. It came in the form of a telepathic acknowledgement 

"Sir, what do you plan on doing about Remy in the long term?" Scott asked as he took a seat. 

"I believe the answer to that is fairly obvious," Xavier replied. 

"No, it's not. Remy's just a kid, like Bobby. We know how well that turned out," Scott said. 

Xavier winced. "Honestly Scott, I don't believe Bobby's age was a factor in his being injured." 

"Try telling his mother that," Scott challenged. "Without using telepathy to coheres her agreement." 

"They're only a few years younger than yourself Scott. Do you think you're not ready for what I'm asking of you?" 

"I'm old enough to draft, Bobby isn't old enough to get a driver's license, same goes for Remy," Scott replied. 

"I believe you'll find Remy has as much real world experience as any of you, probably more," Xavier rebutted. "He won't appreciate your protection." 

"Neither would've Bobby," Scott said standing up. "But do you think that's much comfort when I visit him in the hospital? I won't lead a mission with a child on the team again, you should know that upfront." 

TBC 

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	3. 3 of 13

**Road's End 3/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

The first thing Remy was aware of when he woke was the quiet. No sounds of traffic invaded the room, not even the softer noises of another person or the hum of machinery. 

Sunlight filtered in around the edges of drawn curtains, illuminating a room almost as barren as your average hotel room, but much cleaner. 

He was on a bed, a quilt spread over him, his coat and one boot still on. 

Feeling apprehensive, he turned his attention to the other foot. Unwrapping the ace bandage, Remy found the flesh beneath it discolored and puffy, swollen to the size of a cantaloupe. 

"Merde," he swore. "Not gettin' far like dis." 

Looking around the room again he noticed a pair of crutches leaning against the wall beside the bed. A pile of clothes and toiletries sat on a chair in the corner, a tape recorder on top of the pile. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed Remy grabbed the tape recorder and pressed play. 

"I wasn't sure if you could read, so I taped this," a woman's voice said causing Remy to grit his teeth in irritation. "Anyway, when you wake up Professor Xavier wants to talk to you. There's a shower just down the hall, that is a hint by the way. When you're ready just give a shout, one of the telepaths will hear you and send someone up to get you." 

Remy considered charging the recorder to let the speaker know what he thought of her, then glancing at his injured foot he reconsidered. "Best be nice, Remy," he told himself. "Least 'til yo' can run." 

A few minutes later, after fighting with crutches and an arm full of stuff, Remy sighed happily as the warm water from the shower cascaded over him. He'd long since decided that one of the things he liked best about the girls who he charmed into inviting him back to their hotel rooms was the showers. It had been weeks since he'd had the opportunity to do anything but run and the patina of grime on his skin was becoming truly unpleasant, bad enough to easily overwhelm his first impulse, which was to not follow every single instruction on the tape. 

Afterwards Remy sat frowning at the clothes that had been left for him. "What dey t'ink dis is, Halloween?" 

Still they were an improvement over the hospital gown, Remy decided, putting his trench coat on over them. He was glad he'd been coherent enough to grab it before his escape attempt, even if he wished he'd thought to put on the rest of his clothes. 

After inspecting the room more closely Remy up-ended both chairs and unscrewed the coaster feet, depositing them and the knobs off the dresser in various pockets. Not as good as his cards, he decided, but they'd serve in a pinch. 

That done, he grabbed the crutches and headed downstairs. "Find someone de old fashion way," he muttered. "Don' need no 'paths muckin' around my head." 

"You should have called," a sharp voiced young woman with cropped red-hair announced meeting him half way down the staircase. "We have an elevator, it would have been easier." 

Remy compared her voice to the one from the tape. It wasn't the same, that would help with his resolve to get on these people's good side. 

"Je' desole," he said smiling. "Didn' know m' escort be so lovely." 

Jean rolled her eyes. "Is there is anyone we should call? Parents, a guardian?" 

"De only ones who care if I be alive or dead would prefer de later," Remy replied. 

"I thought the guys after you wanted you alive," Jean commented as she reached out telepathically to scan him. Like Xavier before her, she found his thoughts impossible to grasp, but in her case forewarned was forearmed and she had a theory she was looking forward to trying. Keeping her approach casual she formed a bubble around the will-o-whisp form that marked Remy's existence in the astral plain before trying to examine his mind. 

Jean was so focused on her objective she totally missed Remy's expression shifting from flirtatious to angry until his irritation hit her mind like a sharp slap. "Ain't none of yo' got no manners?" he snapped. "Dis be my head, my thoughts. Private, d'accord?" 

"Let's go, the Professor is waiting in the library," Jean said stiffly, withdrawing her mental probe. 

"Remy, I'm glad you chose to join us," Xavier greeted him as Jean departed. 

"Not as if I had much choice in de matter," Remy pointed out. 

"No, I suppose not, but since you seem to be struck with us for the moment, you might as well make the best of it and find out what we can offer," Xavier replied. 

"In return for what?" Remy asked. 

"I simply wish to educate young mutants, teach them to use their abilities responsibly," Xavier said reassuringly. "There is no charge, nothing expected of you except that you do your best." 

Despite the Professor's effort Remy was anything but reassured. "Why you do dis? What you get out of it?" he demanded. 

"Nothing less than the betterment of society and hope for the future," Xavier replied. 

"What de hell does dat mean in real terms?" Remy asked skeptically. 

"He gets to prove a point, kid," Logan said standing in the doorway. "He wrote a book 'bout mutants taking a place in society and we're the proof that the stuff he talked about is more than just pipedreams. How far have you gone to prove yerself right about something?" 

A momentary grin lit the boy's face. "Mebbe a bit further dan was smart a time or two," he admitted. "So what I gotta do to prove dis point of his?" 

"Nothing too bad, get yourself educated, play superhero every now and then," Logan replied with a shrug. "I hear the exams are a pain but stickin' it to the bad guys has its charms." 

"Can't argue wid dat mon ami," Remy replied. "Ain't like I'm goin' no where anyway. If dat be all Professor, can I go get lunch?" 

"Of course Remy, make yourself at home," Xavier answered. Telepathically he spoke with Logan. "You appear to have a knack for dealing with our newest student." 

Logan waited until Remy had left then said. "You're getting delusional Chuck. Kid's going to rabbit as soon as he can walk." 

"At least we've got that long." 

****** ****** ****** 

Scott met Remy before he'd made it half way down the hall. 

"Normally I'd offer a tour of the school about now, but having spent some time on crutches myself, I doubt you're in the mood for a lot of walking, so we'll move straight on to lunch. Food wise we all help out. Logan takes care of breakfast when he's here. If you don't like eggs and bacon you're out of luck. Lunch is everybody for themselves. The rest of us take turns handling dinner. It's at seven; tonight is Ororo's night, which makes it a good idea to be on time. She and Peter are our best cooks. I do plain but editable. Hank thinks of the kitchen as an extension of the lab, his experiments are hit or miss. And don't say I said this, but if Jean makes anything other than chef salad, don't be hungry." 

"Merci for de warnin'," Remy said spotting a deck of cards as they passed through the living room. Faining difficulty with his crutches he quietly slipped the cards into his coat. 

"Just remember, I didn't say it. Officially I love Jean's cooking. With her being a telepath I'm sure she knows better, but I think she appreciates the effort. We'll put you at the end of the rotation. By the time your turn comes up you should be healthy again. Someone'll get groceries on every Saturday, so if there's anything you want, just add it to the list on the refrigerator," Scott rattled on cheerfully. "Right now we've got a choice between peanut butter and jelly or cold cuts." 

Remy let Scott direct him toward the table then watched in bemusement as the other boy began dragging a wide array of sandwich- makings to the table. "Who's going to eat all this?" Remy asked as Scott kept setting out more and more stuff. 

"Us, we've both got energy conversion type mutations, which generally means a really high metabolism, besides which we're teenage boys, we've got an image to keep up," Scott replied. 

Remy shook his head and laughed then his expression turned withdrawn. 

"Don' relax," he thought to himself. "Yo' know bettah. So what if day save yo', dat only mean's you're in dere debt. So what if dey feel right, yo' instincts 'bout people been wrong before." 

But this place, the people, did have a good sense to them. Not the absence of a bad aurora that he'd once mistaken for goodness and there were so many of them. They couldn't all be insane like Richard. Remy firmly pushed the ugly memories that accompanied thoughts about his misjudgments of both Essex and Richard back into their box where he didn't have to deal with them. They'd served their purpose of keeping him wary. 

Still, after months of living in constant and immediate fear for his life, Remy was tired in his soul as well as his body. He wanted to believe he was safe, that he could finally relax his guard, so badly. But he knew better, ignorance wasn't an excuse anymore, there was no safety. Only it would be so easy to slip in this place, not so much with the telepaths who pried where they weren't wanted, but with Scott, who seemed like nothing more than another kid, awkward, talking too much, trying too hard to fill every silence. It reminded him of a past almost forgotten, and he'd met Logan's type before. They didn't bother with a front, if he acted friendly chances were, he meant it. Still, out here in an isolated residence, injured and surrounded by people with powers of their own, Remy was frighteningly close to being at their mercy, and yet he wanted to believe in their good intensions. He wondered what was wrong with him. Could he really be that worn, that lonely, or was it the 'paths playing tricks with his head? 

Vigilance restored, Remy's attention returned to Scott, only to find the older boy engrossed in making lunch. Remy quickly joined him in putting sandwiches together and grabbing chips. 

After his second helping Scott's mood turned sober, even though he was trying to cover it with casualness. Remy sensed the change and paused to watch the other suspiciously. 

"We didn't get a chance to ask before, with you being unconscious and all," Scott began. "But why were those guys after you anyway? From what I heard they want you pretty bad. Don't worry, our plane has cloaking capabilities, they couldn't track us, but we need to know if there's a new group hunting mutants." 

Remy paused fiddling with his glass, buying time. He wanted to deny everything, but maybe, maybe they could help. They certainly couldn't be any worse than Sinister. Maybe this was a chance to make up for his mistake. 

"Don' know 'xactly," Remy said finally. "Dey been chasin' me for a while. I hear stuff 'bout dem. De mutants dey take don' come back. Dey got a boss, 'eard 'em call him Essex or Sinister, bad as dey are, he scares 'em." 

"And what about them?" Cyclops asked, the eighteen year-old Scott totally disappearing behind the X-men's field commander. 

"Dey call themselves de Marauders; Scalphunter, he leads, good wid guns and such. Vertigo, mais her name say it all. Arclight be strong, can shake t'ings apart. Harpooner, his power be like mine, he makes t'ings explode. And lately dere been a new guy, t'ink dey call him Scrambler, don' know what he does, 'cept shriek like a bebe when I deal my cahds to him." 

"You know quite a bit about them," Cyclops began. 

"I was motivated, 'kay?" Remy snapped defensively. 

"I was just going to ask if you had any clue about what happens to the mutants they take," Cyclops said frowning. 

"Rien, mais yo' t'ink it be for dere health?" Remy replied sarcastically. 

"No," Cyclops said darkly and even though he's set up Scott's response Remy flinched, a look of shame crossing his face, he hadn't come to that realization so quickly. 

****** ****** ****** 

"Remy knows more about these Marauders and Sinister then he's letting on," Scott said. 

"I think we should lock him up," Jean volunteered. 

"He's Bobby's age," Peter protested. 

"So were half of Weapon X's operatives," Jean replied. "Neither the Professor or I can read him, we've never even seen mental shields like his before. Not every assassin who shows up here is going to convert. We got lucky with Wolverine, we need to take precautions." 

"If we attempt to restrain Remy, we'll loose all chance to reach him," Xavier put in. 

"You try to make him a prisoner ya better be ready to kill him," Logan said. "Scotty's right, he's hiding things, but the night we found him, that was stripped to the bone truth. He woulda died before letting himself be taken captive." 

"Storm, Beast you've both been very quiet tonight," Xavier said. 

"I disliked Remy from the moment he first opened his mouth," Ororo said. "But I don't think he's anything more than he appears to be: a disrespectful, smart-mouthed street rat who got in over his head." 

"Ain't you the one who was stealing cars a year ago?" Logan asked. 

"When the Professor and I first found him we offered to help him and he suggested this was some sort of prostitution ring," Ororo said, outraged. 

"You got any idea what the last person he accepted help from might of done?" Logan growled. "Kid probably has reason to be suspicious." 

"Hank?" Xavier asked. 

"I've seen Remy conscious for all of five minutes Professor, what do you expect me to add to this discussion," Hank said. 

"I don't want to lock him up," Scott said. "I don't think we have the right to do that." 

"I agree with Scott," Peter said. "He seems like an okay kid. Even if he was sent here to infiltrate us I think we can get him to change sides." 

"Precisely," Xavier said. "Spend time with Remy, convince him of our cause." 

"And keep an eye on him at the same time," Jean added. 

"What about this Sinister?" Scott asked. 

"I am searching for any trace of his operation," Xavier replied. "But he appears very well hidden." 

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Wolverine said. "His goons hounded the kid from one side of the country to the other, they'll come to us eventually." 

"If that's really what happened," Jean said. 

TBC 

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	4. 4 of 13

**Road's End**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

Part 4/13 

Ororo paused outside the den watching Remy lay out yet another of his endless games of solitaire. His elaborate, extensive shuffling and precise placement of the cards made her think he played more for the feel of the cards in his hands than out of interest in the game. 

She took a deep breath, trying to cleanse all uncharitable thoughts in preparation for her shift of babysitting/recruiting. 

"Hello Remy," she said in a bright, cheerful voice, holding out a Yahtzee board. "I thought you might be bored, would you like to play a different game?" 

Remy glanced at her, recognizing the voice then noting the score pad in her hand. "Sur' t'ing, but I best be keepin' score, non? ...don' know if yo' can write." 

The cards in front of Remy scattered as Storm's anger manifested itself as a mini-whirlwind, sweeping through the room. 

Almost as quickly as it hadsprung into existence the whirlwind dissipated. "I deserved that," Storm said stiffly, kneeling to collect the cards she'd sent flying. 

Once that was finished she set both the cards and the yahtzee board on the table in front of Remy, taking a seat across from him. "You may have the first turn." 

Remy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "T'ought yo'd storm off," he said. "Don' have a clue as to what your game be 'bout chere." Determinedly avoiding her eyes, his silky, overly long bangs falling into his face, Remy looked every bit as young as he was for a brief moment. 

"I could teach you," Ororo offered. "I'm certain you will prove a quick learner," she added trying to erase her earlier insult. 

"Dat be true," Remy replied, picking up the board to examine it more closely. "It be dat or yo' die very young." 

"Where as you are so terribly ancient," Ororo found herself easing, to her own and Remy's surprise. 

"Jus' 'xplain de game," Remy answered, trying and failing to sound annoyed. 

****** ****** ****** 

Scott and Jean slipped into the hospital room past the guards, who remained complacently unaware, thanks to Jean's powers. 

"What are you guys doing here?" Bobby Drake asked. "My mom'll kill you if she sees you here." 

Jean tapped the side of her head. "No one will see us unless I want them to," she explained. "It's good to see you awake again." 

"We've missed you," Scott added. "Baseball games just aren't the same without you there to add the snowball fight element." 

"So how is everything at the school? Did anyone else get hurt?" Bobby asked. 

"You saved Ororo," Jean said, her voice tight. "I'm sorry we couldn't have done the same for you." 

An uncomfortable silence descended. 

"There's a new student," Scott said after awhile, anxious to fill the void. "Remy LeBeau, he's about your age." 

"His parents are letting him after..." Bobby trailed off, unwilling to complete the sentence. 

"He doesn't have any parents so far as we know," Jean said. "Which fits, we know next to nothing about him." 

"Oh?" Bobby said. "What's he do?" 

"Blows things up," Scott answered. "He calls it his charge. Hank thinks he must be turning the potential energy in objects into kinetic energy, but we aren't really sure how it works. Remy's paranoid about labs or tests of any sort. We're trying not to scare him off." 

"I was going to say it would be nice if I could meet him," Bobby said. "But I guess that would really scare him, huh?" 

"We could bring him next time," Scott said. "I mean if you want us to come back. Remy doesn't really need Jean to sneak him in here I guess. There's no restraining order against him." 

"Why wouldn't I want you to come back?" Bobby asked. 

"I thought you might hate us because of what happened," Scott said quietly. 

"No way!" Bobby exclaimed. "But..." 

"What?" Jean asked with concern. 

"Do you guys know about what the rest of us were talking about right before IT happened?" Bobby asked. 

Jean and Scott nodded. 

"I was really scared during that fight," Bobby said. "I couldn't... Maybe seeing him grab Storm was what snapped me out of it... But I think the Professor did something to me. Made me fight. Even if my parents would consider it, I don't ever want to go back to the school, or see him ever again." 

****** ****** ****** 

"I thought you might be feeling cooped up here," Peter said, car keys dangling from his fingers. "Want to go into town and catch a movie? Scott and Jean are coming too. We'll probably end up going for pizza afterwards." 

"Gimme a minute," Remy said. 

"You've already got your coat, as always. What else do you need?" Peter asked. 

"Saw some shades in de kitchen," Remy remarked. "Figured dis little outin' go smoot'er if I borrow dem, den we can all pass." 

****** ****** ****** 

Clean up duty fell to Hank and Ororo. The kitchen was silent, the air crackling with tension. 

"You've gotten awfully friendly with Remy lately," Hank said flatly. 

"What's wrong? You can't be jealous, not when you broke up with me," Ororo replied icily. 

"Hardly, get involved with him, see if I care. For all his looks and flirting Remy's still jailbait," Hank snapped. "I was simply observing that, considering the fact that you despised him less than a week ago you've become terribly chummy. Doesn't that indicate anything to you?" 

"The Professor didn't force me to become interested in you," Ororo practically growled. "If he had he'd hardly let you go on acting like this now would he?" 

"He's changed since we had to kill his son," Hank said. 

"But not so much that he would refrain from altering my feeling toward Remy," Ororo said sarcastically. "That makes all sorts of sense." 

"Looking like this where else am I going to go?" Hank demanded gesturing to his blue furred form. "Remy may still leave, especially if someone were acting hostile." 

"You could always join the Brotherhood," Ororo shot back. 

"What other logical reason do you have for your abrupt about face with regards to Remy?" Hank demanded. 

"Fine," Ororo said shortly. "Do you know why I initially disliked him? He reminded me of what I used to be. I was a pickpocket back in Morocco you know, or maybe you didn't bother to listen when I told you that. I used to love to sneak into movies; they formed my dreams. I probably watched "Gone in Sixty Seconds" twenty times before I couldn't resist the temptation. I stowed away on a ship and came to America to become a big time auto thief. I got caught in under two months. Then I came here and found something to believe in. If the Professor has changed me, I don't care! I like the person I've become here. I remember the cynical little witch I used to be and she seems so empty. The more I use my powers the more connected I feel to the world. It's so much broader than I ever could have imagined, so much more glorious. I am so much more than I ever realized. I didn't want to acknowledge how much like Remy I truly was. It felt like stepping backward. Then I realized I could help him take a step forwards and I want that." 

"You just had an epiphany on the subject?" Hank asked. 

"I realized it Hank. I can analyze my reactions and figure out when I'm making a mistake, even if I'm not the genius you are. However, I must say conspiracy theories are best left to the lunatic fringe, unless that's the group you're looking to join." 

****** ****** ****** 

Jean fidgeted impatiently as she took her turn trying to connect with Remy. 

After a few minutes she laid her hand of cards on the kitchen table. "This isn't working," she announced. "I'm supposed to be sweet and help convince you of our sincerity, but lets be honest. I can't trust you because you won't let me scan you and you can't trust me because trusting people isn't in your nature." 

"Yo' call it trust when yo' got to rifle through a homme's head firs'?" Remy asked. "Got a little secret for yo' chere, yo' every bit as suspicious and paranoid as Remy, yo' just got a means of getting 'round it." 

"Whatever," Jean snapped then walked out of the room. 

****** ****** ****** 

After dinner Scott joined Logan on the back porch where the older man had retreated to smoke without the vehement protests and possible telekinetic intervention he would have faced if he'd tried lighting up in the house. 

"I wouldn't want to be in your place if you get caught giving Remy cigars again," Scott commented. 

"I didn't GIVE it to him," Logan replied darkly. "And he ain't gonna to try a trick like that again." 

"I guess I shouldn't be too surprised," Scott said. "There isn't a single pack of cards left in the house and you know where they've gone." 

"That's different," Logan said. "He's just make sure he can protect himself with the cards." 

"How much protection does he need?" Scott asked. "I'm certain there used to be at least six decks laying around the mansion, that's over three hundred bombs in Remy's hands and we're trying to be his friends. I mean I like him, or I want to like anyway. He needs us, this, as badly as anyone I've ever seen, but I think he's more scare of people who want to help him than the ones out to kill him!" 

"There may be a little overkill going on," Logan acknowledged. "But trouble's coming and he's in the middle of it." 

"Is that why you've been sticking so close since he got here?" Scott asked. 

"Been looking forward to cashing in that rain check I got last time," Logan allowed. 

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	5. 5 of 13

**Road's End 5/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

Hank knocked on Remy's door. 

"Quoi?" Remy asked, Hank too that as an invitation to come in. 

Perching on one chair he said, "I've been meaning to ask, what made you call us when you got in trouble?" 

"Figured yo' know de answer to that as well as me," Remy said. "Your Professor, he a subtle one. Didn't realize he'd been dere till I started looking for traces of what I knew had happened." 

"You KNOW Xavier tampered with your mind?" Hank asked. 

"Yo' t'ink of any other reason I call a man I met for all of a minute on de other side of the continent for help wid a team of professional killers? 'Specially when dat man tell me he represents a SCHOOL?" 

"No, I can't," Hank replied. "But you said you found traces of what he did, proof." 

"I know what de inside of my head feel like," Remy said. "I know when someone, not me, been changing it. Jean be straight forward, a boulder thrown in a stream. Yo' know it be dere. Tell her to git and the stream goes back like it was. Xavier be more clevah. Puts a few pebbles in here, loosens de bank dere and for yo' know it de stream's shifted to a whole new course. Probably should be grateful, neh? Be dead now if I hadn't called." 

"Could you teach me to do what you do?" Hank asked. "To see a telepath's interference?" 

For a moment Remy's expression was eager, happy. Then frustration clouded his eyes. 

"I want to," he said. "Mais, I don' have de words. How I explain de difference 'tween yo' an' not yo', it just is. It like sayin' how yo' see, yo' just open yo' eyes." 

Disappointed, dissatisfied Hank sighed. "I suppose you can't explain how you shield yourself from telepathic probes as well." 

"Hein?" Remy said frowning. "Don' know what you mean, shield. Don' like 'em me, I just keep out of de way." 

****** ****** ****** 

"Professor, I'm curious," Hank said. "How is it that you got Remy to call us but couldn't stop him from throwing what amounted to a bomb at Peter?" 

"It seems a general suggestion aimed in Remy's direction didn't activate his defenses, but when I tried to co-opted his motor functions before he could cause any damage I could get a foothold in his mind." 

"But you have been manipulating his mind, or at least trying to," Hank said. 

Xavier frowned at his student. "In good conscious I couldn't ignore Remy's plight, he's barely more than a child. Living on the streets any number of evil fates might have befallen him. However I could hardly drag him back here against his will. Further, to maintain your and the other's safety I couldn't simply tell him what sort of help might be found here. A subliminal suggestion to call should he be threatened was the best course for everyone. Or so I believed, Remy is so resistant to telepathy it didn't take effect until it was almost too late." 

"And now that he's here and knows all about this little operation, that justifies keeping him here," Hank suggested. "After all, if he left that information could fall into the wrong hands." 

"It's in Remy's best interest as well," Xavier confirmed. "He may believe that breaking his trail is enough to escape from those pursuing him but I sensed their determination. They would eventually find him again. Beyond that Remy's potential was being wasted in the life he was leading." 

"How many other ways have you manipulated us?" Hank asked. Then as if an afterthought added, "All for our own good of course." 

"If I were inclined to interfere with my student's love lives I would have resolved the utterly pointless doubts Scott burdens himself with months ago to get some peace from Jean's frustration and his fear of rejection." Xavier said. "And you know blaming me for Bobby's injuries is simply a manifestation of your need to have SOMEONE to hold accountable. If David were alive you'd focus your righteous anger on him no doubt. As it is you must content yourself with blaming me for placing Bobby in harms way and perhaps for failing as David's father." 

"You're so fond of reading my mind," Hank replied sarcastically. "I'm certain you realize we already dismissed that sort of proof." 

"You require me to prove a negative Beast," Xavier interrupted. 

Hank overrode the Professor's protest, "It was right before Bobby was hurt. If you somehow missed it, Bobby was too scared to fight. If he hadn't attacked David would have left him for last. We could have beaten him before it cost Bobby so much." 

"Will you allow the possibility that it was the danger to a friend and not intervention from me that broke Bobby from his terror induced paralysis?" Xavier asked. "Bobby has proven himself a hero before and I was unconscious when he confronted Weapon X in an attempt to protect the rest of us." 

Lips thinned with anger Hank stormed out of the Professor's office. 

****** ****** ****** 

"Hey kid," Logan yelled. "Get a move on it. Jeannie remembered not to call ya psychically so you better not make her regret it by holding up dinner." 

"Crutches 'member, got me an excuse," Remy replied grinning as he appeared in the doorway. 

Logan glanced at the coat tied around Remy's torso. "Why don't ya leave the security blanket in you room?" he said. 

"Ain't dat!" Remy said frowning. "Dis whole state be unnaturally cold." 

"Ya ain't that good of a liar kid," Logan replied. "Ya been here for almost a month, do you think it might be possible for you to make it through dinner with only one pack of cards on you?" 

Remy glared stubbornly at him, making no move to loose the coat. 

"Kid, I'm all for being prepared, but your guard's so high you can't recognize a friend when you see one. Even I need people to watch my back once and awhile." 

Remy fished out one deck of cards and rolled it in his tee-shirt sleeve then untied his coat and tossed it back in his room. "Better mon frere?" he asked. 

"Yeah kid. The first step to working out the difference between sensible caution and ravin' paranoia is knowing that there are times when you can stand down." 

"D'accord, mais no one better mess wid m' coat," Remy muttered. "Not like I got anything else dat's m' own anymore." 

****** ****** ****** 

" 'What cahds' he says. I bet he practices that innocent look in the mirror," Jean muttered irritably as she stomped down the stairs. "Building card houses is the best way to refine my telekinesis, but there isn't a single deck to be found in the whole school since Remy showed up, but does he know where they went? Oh no! Of course there's always a deck handy for his solitaire games, but that must be just a big coincidence, right?" 

"Jean, may I speak with you?" Professor Xavier projected. 

"Sure, I'm listening," Jean sent back. 

"Do you remember the conference in New York, I've decided I will be attending it for the next few days," Xavier told her. 

"The one you called a waste of time?" Jean questioned. 

"Quite true, however, I believe it would be beneficial for Remy if I were gone for a few days. His sensitivity about telepaths is making it difficult to gain his trust," Xavier explained. "He knows you aren't capable of entering his mind undetected, so I am hoping my absence will help him to trust that his desire to stay here is of his own making." 

"He wants to stay?" Jean asked her mental tone conveying disbelief. 

"Remy has expended all of his resources. He wants to be safe, to have people to depend on, to belong, but he is afraid to trust. My abilities give his fears a focal point. I hope that by suddenly removing myself from the equation the rest of you will be able to befriend him before he can reorient his defenses. Remy would like to believe himself to be totally self-sufficient but he is only a fifteen- year-old boy. He needs friends and family." 

"Still what's the point, New York's still in mental range for you?" Jean asked. 

"Remy isn't aware of that," Xavier replied. 

****** ****** ****** 

Remy watched Scott approach with a knowing grin. "Yo' got some activity to make me feel like a part of the group mon ami?" 

"Naw, I thought I'd try a new approach," Scott replied easily. "Thought I'd ask if there was anything YOU wanted to do. You were living in New York when the Prof and Ororo found you before. You have any one here you want to catch up with or anything?" 

"Yo' know, dat sound like a damn good idea," Remy said smiling wistfully. "Be nice to know she be a'ight." 

"She?" Scott asked curiously. "Girlfriend?" 

"Little one, I took care of her for awhile," Remy said. "She have some bad 'uns after her. I protected her. Den I find out dat Essex be after me still. Didn' want de petite caught up in dat yo' understand?" 

Scott filed away the information that the situation they'd extracted Remy from wasn't his first run in with Essex but decided not to draw Remy's attention to his slip up. Instead Scott nodded, giving Remy the assurance he seemed to want. 

"I checked de place out as best I can 'fore leavin' her dere an' dey seem like 'kay folks. Dere be no reason for dem to hate de petite either." 

Scott felt a touch of melancholy as he noted Remy's aborted gesture toward his eyes. It saddened him to see Remy's matter of a fact acceptance that people would hate him for the unique eyes that gave him away as a mutant. 

"I keep to the de shadows few days after leavin' her as well, see dat dey be treatin' her a'ight. I know yo' can nevah be sure 'bout people, no matter how good t'ings look. Mais, I did my best and de lesser of two evils, neh?" Remy finished with a sigh. "Like to see her 'gain, make sure she be happy." 

"Sure Remy. No problem," Scott said. 

Several hours later they pulled up in front of a shelter. Scott watched in bemusement as Remy managed to tangle his crutches in his hurry to get out of the car. He'd spent the whole drive fidgeting. Scott had never seen the other boy so excited about anything. 

Scott followed at a leisurely pace as Remy approached one of the shelter's volunteers. 

"Yo' remember me?" Remy was asking. "Brought a girl chile here 'bout half a year back. She be okay? Can I see her?" 

"You were rather hard to forget, what with making Mia float and all. I'm Jeffery by the way. You must be Remy. Mia talked about you constantly while she was staying with us." 

"Was stayin' Little One not here no more?" Remy asked, concern and disappointment vying for supremacy in his voice. 

"The police were able to locate Mia's Aunt..." 

"Her Tante 'lizabet in Las Vegas?" Remy interrupted. 

"Yes, that's her. She took custody of Mia," Jeffery replied. "The police wanted to speck to you as well. They were hoping you could provide some leads about the man who murdered Mia's mother and kidnapped her." 

"Mia, Little One's name be Mia? She be happy wid her Tante? Like to talk to her..." 

"The full name is Mia Devens, same as her Aunt, they're probably in the phone book," Jeffery volunteered. "Hearing from you would probably make Mia's whole month." 

"Merci M. Jeffery," Remy exclaimed happily. "Come on Scotty, gotta make a call." 

"Thanks," Scott said turning to follow Remy. "Mia's day isn't the only one you made." 

"You'd better hurry," Jeffery replied. "I think he's going to leave without you." 

****** ****** ****** 

"Hi?" A bright, youthful voice asked. 

"Little One?" Remy said hopefully. 

"Remy!" Mia shrieked. 

"Oui, little one, 'ow you been?" Remy asked. 

"I got to fly on an airplane, all by myself." Mia began excitedly. "It was almost as neat as when you made me fly." 

"Yo' livin' wid your Tante now. Yo' like dat?" Remy asked. 

"My Tante? Huh-uh, I'm staying with my Auntie Elizabeth. She's nice. What's a Tante Remy?" Mia asked. 

"Tante is de same as Aunt," Remy explained. 

"Oh, like pants are parents?" Mia asked. 

"Not quite, but close 'nough," Remy replied. "Glad yo' happy dere." 

"You could come stay here too," Mia offered. "I'd let you have the top bunk bed. It's nice here and I told everybody about you. Crisa doesn't believe you're real. We'll show her!" 

"Little one, I got a place to stay," Remy said, wondering what Mia's Aunt Elizabeth would say if he showed up on her doorstep. 

"But this is better than the train car," Mia argued. "We don't have to pretend to get food and the doors lock so no bad people can get you." 

" 'Preciate de offer cheri," Remy said swallowing a lump in his throat. "But I wouldn't want to put your Tante out none. 'Sides, I found a new place to stay m'self, it a nice place too." 

"Okay," Mia sighed. "But you could still visit sometime couldn't you? And we could call each other. Crisa and I do that sometimes, when we're not mad at each other." 

"Sounds bien, I mean good," Remy replied. 

"What's your number," Mia demanded in a business-like tone. 

Smiling to himself Remy fished out the card Xavier had given him and read the number off for Mia. 

"Where did you go?" Mia asked as soon as she'd repeated the number back. "I missed you." 

"Missed yo' too Little One, mais I could not stay. Had some bad people of m' own to deal with. What yo' been doing while I be gone?" 

"I'm going to school. Recess is the best part, 'cept maybe art. I got to..." 

Scott peeked into the den and spotted Remy sitting on the floor, leaning back against the telephone table, the phone cord wrapped idly around one foot, a warm, relaxed smile curving his lips as he listened to Mia's chatter. 

"See Remy," Scott said to himself. "There are good people out there. Your Mia found them and so did you." 

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	6. 6 of 13

**Road's End 6/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

In Remy's dreams gentle hands touched his shoulder, moving on to rub soothing circles across his back, carefully avoiding the multitude of bruises covering his torso, "I'm sorry Rems, I hate hurtin' yo', but it's for yo' own good, petite. Don' yo' see that?" Richard said his voice was full of honest regret. 

"Why you doin' this to me?" Remy pled, fighting back tears. 

Richard lifted his slight body easily from the corner and sat him in front of the hotel room's dingy mirror; his hands firmly and irresistibly forced Remy's head up, making him stare into his own eyes. "Can' yo' see de devil in yo' eyes petite?" he asked. 

Remy stared into the mirror, seeing blood covering half his face, seeing cheek bones that a few months ago hadn't looked half as sharp, seeing dirt and grim darkening his skin, seeing an almost entirely different person than the eleven year old who'd ran away from home a nearly a year ago, but his eyes hadn't changed. Coal black orbs relieved by twin embers, the eyes of a demon, not a human. That was all that Richard saw. 

"It ain't m' fault, dey always been like dat," Remy tried to explain. "I didn' do nothin' bad. Why yo' punishin' me Rich, I t'ought yo' LIKED me?" 

Richard sighed. He ruffled Remy's hair in an affectionate gesture. "I do like yo' Rems," he insisted. "I hear what dey all call yo'; Le Diable Blanc. Came lookin' for de Devil hisself and I find a petite chile. But yo' got de Devil's mark on yo' chile, yo' can see dat for y'self. Yo' ain't done nothin' yet, but yo' will. Dat's why I try so hard to get de demon out of yo'." 

"It hurts so bad," Remy whimpered. 

"I know it did and I won't hurt yo' no more petite. Nothin' I do works, yo' chile's innocence protects de demon from everyt'ing I do to exorcise it. I t'ought mebbe I could beat it out of yo', but I can' do dis. I ain't strong enough, I like yo' too much. If I wait till yo' be older mebbe it would work, but yo' soul won' be pure no more. So it's best dat I do it now," Richard said sadly. He rested his hands on Remy's shoulders, their eyes met in the mirror. "I want yo' to understand, I'm doing dis to save yo', nevah t'ink dis is a punishment. Don' fight me, it won' hurt much dat way." 

And then Richard's hands closed around Remy's throat, choking him. Tear spilled down Remy's cheeks as he struggled helplessly against the larger man. Fire burned in his brain, in his limbs as his body screamed for the oxygen it was being deny. A dazed, almost high sensation swept through him, his hands fell away from Richard's to rest limply on the sink beneath the mirror and the fire in his body spilled over into the ceramic, causing it to glow with a lurid pink fire. 

Richard hurtled them both back away from it a second before the sink exploded. The fall loosened his grip on the boy and Remy twisted free, throwing himself into the furthest corner of the room. 

"It's startin' petite," Richard said staring at the blackened hole in the wall. "Yo' gotta let me finish dis now, or yo'll burn in hell for all eternity." 

Remy's hands scrabbled across the floor, searching for something to defend himself with. "Jus' stay away, don' touch me!" he yelled. 

"Can' do dat petite, I care too much 'bout yo'," Richard said grabbing Remy's ankle and hauling the struggling boy back toward him. Remy's fingers brushed a discarded bottle of holy water and once again the fire surged through him. He twisted in Richard's grasp and through the glowing bottle into the man's face. It took half of Richard's head with it when it exploded. 

Blood and brains splattered across the room. For a moment the corpse remained standing. Remy tugged his foot free of its grasp and it toppled forward on to him. 

"Don' touch me! Don' touch me!" Remy shrieked. Panic made his movements clumsy, made it even harder to push the dead thing off him. And then he fell on the floor, waking himself from the dream. 

Remy stared wildly around his room in Westchester, trying to shake the memory of the dead weight on top of him and the smell of scorched brain-matter. "Dat be a long time 'go," Remy reminded himself. "Yo' power come, it save yo' from dat crazy an' all de others dat came after." 

Except Essex, he couldn't help but think. Essex had found him three days after Richard's death, still huddled in that filthy little hotel room, still glowing with the barely containable fires of his new powers, with the hotel manager's body laying a few feet from Richard's, rotting in the humid New Orleans' summer. He'd been lucky, it wasn't the sort of neighborhood where anyone called the cops about missing persons. No one cared about the sounds of explosions in the small room. Remy had know it couldn't last much longer, eventually the police would come and then they'd keep coming until they'd finished what Richard started, he couldn't help but wonder if that wasn't for the best, if maybe Richard had been right about him. Then Essex had come, Essex had promised him a safe place to learn to control his new powers. 

"Out of de fryin' pan..." Remy whispered to himself, wondering when he'd learn. Once he'd believed he was safe, he'd thought he could tell about people. He'd seen the sickness and evil eating away at the ones that preyed on runaways like himself and had been able to avoid them. He'd known which ones were telling the truth and honestly wanted to help. 

And then there'd been Richard, who lied with his heart not just with his words. Richard hadn't set off Remy's inner warning system even once. Then there was Essex, who had simply been empty of all feelings, who was evil beyond all belief beneath the dispassionate exterior. There was no way to tell what horrors lurked beneath people's surface, yet here he was, liking, beginning to trust these X-men, because they felt right. 

Telling Mia he'd stay here, letting himself depend on them. 

"Stupid!" Remy hissed. "Don' yo' learn? Yo' WANT to be hurt 'gain?" 

Remy stood, cautiously letting his sprained ankle take his weight. There wasn't even a twinge of pain. 

"Been making excuses to stay yo' idiot," he chastised himself. "Lettin' y'self want dis, even dough yo' know it be a lie. No more." 

Remy dressed in the uniform Xavier had given him, reasoning that if it could hide his mutant signature form things like the Sentinels then maybe it could hide him from Sinister as well. 

Checking that his pockets were all full of cards he pulled on his coat and climbed out the window then slid into the night, planning to hotwire a car from one of neighboring houses rather than risking Logan's enhanced senses being altered if he tried to take on the school's vehicles. 

Several minutes after leaving the mansion grounds a lithesome shadow rose up in Remy's path and his perception of the world twisted into chaos. 

Collapsing to his knees Remy pulled a handful of cards from his duster then a hand clamped down on his shoulder and the warm glow of his power went cold, leaving the cards nothing more than useless cardboard in his hands. 

"You've been an embarrassment boy," Scramble hissed, shoving Remy into the ground. "But not any longer." 

"I need to get the shackles on him," Scalphunter announced. "Even when he's not using his powers he's a slippery little bastard." 

Remy's attention turned inward, searching for the power that had protected him without fail for so long, finding not even a trace of his unique talent. 

Scramble grinned nastily, "That's what I do boy. I turn other mutant powers against their owners. Looks like yours just turns off when I've got you. We're going to be spending a whole lot of time together, pretty much the rest of your life boy. What do you think of that?" 

Remy stared up at the other man, his eyes wide and scared. He started struggling wildly, trying to pull free. 

Scalphunter pinned Remy to the ground with a knee in the center of his back pulling Remy's arms behind him back and locking them in place then hobbling his legs. "Harpooner, get over here," Scalphunter called. "Help get the kid in the van." 

****** ****** ****** 

"There isn't going to be any breakfast left if Remy doesn't get his butt out of bed soon," Jean commented. 

"I'll wake him," Ororo volunteered rising from the table. 

"Rise and shine!" Ororo yelled, banging on Remy's door. "Or I'll conjure up a rain cloud of your very own." 

Ororo waited a few minutes then began pounding again. "Remy?" 

She considered picking the lock, then decided that wouldn't be helpful in building trust with the notably skittish boy. 

"Just remember I tried to get you there in time for breakfast, if you miss out it's your own fault." Ororo called through the door as she headed back to the kitchen. 

****** ****** ****** 

Scalphunter turned away from the van's comm. unit. "Boss is in the middle of as experiment. Pick-up's not for another forty-eight hours." 

Vertigo and Arclight shared a glance, "There's a shopping center not two blocks from where we're parked," Vertigo said. 

"Better than being cooped up in here the whole time," Arclight agreed. 

The two women reached for the doors. "You can't just take off whenever you feel like it," Scalphunter protested. 

"Mission accomplished, we're off the clock," Vertigo replied. 

"I'm getting something to eat," Harpooner said. "I mean look at the kid, he's bound and gagged, what's he going to do? We don't all need to sit here watching him." 

"Unless Scrambler's still scared of the little boy," Arclight suggested nastily, glancing back to where the mundane looking mutant sat on the floor in the back of the van, his presence keeping their prisoner's abilities repressed. Remy lay face down on the floor, his arms bound behind his back. Scrambler's hand, tangled in his hair, tightened into a fist at Arclight's jibe, pulling Remy's head up at a painful angle. "I told you people, I can't deal with ranged abilities. It wasn't my fault he got away in Chicago." 

"He's gotten away from all of us," Harpooner said shrugging. "The interesting part of Chicago was you shrieking like a girl." 

"You should rephrase that," Arclight said watching Scrambler's scowl darken. "None of the girls shrieked." 

"Give it a rest," Scramble snapped. "It was my first damn assignment. Pick up some kid, I didn't expect him to try to kill me." 

"You know what Sinister's going to do with him," Scalphunter said. "Did you expect him to come willingly?" 

"I expected you guys to give me the back-up I need," Scrambler growled. "I said get me close to him, and look at him now, helpless as a kitten. You do your jobs and I can do mine!" 

"Yep, you do your job, keep him helpless. We're going to go celebrate," Vertigo said and she, Arclight and Harpooner got out of the van, slamming the doors behind them. 

Scalphunter began fidgeting boredly after another ten minutes. 

"Look, I've got everything under control here," Scrambler said. "Dump me and the kid at a hotel and go join the others, nothings going to happen." 

"The boss'll kill us if Gambit gets away again," Scalphunter pointed out. 

"I can handle him! He won't get away," Scrambler insisted. 

Twenty minutes later Scalphunter had Remy and Scrambler installed in a hotel room and was on his way to more interesting locales. 

"Alone at last, huh kid," Scrambler said conversationally as he hauled Remy up on the bed so he was sitting against the headboard. "You really made me look bad you know. They think I'm a coward. I guess they never bothered to watch the tapes from when Sinister first brought you in. Jumping at shadows, curling up in corner whimpering. He had to keep you in an adamantium lined cell for months until you calmed down enough to not blow up half the base the first time the floor creaked. You remember what you were always yelling back then?" 

Scrambler slowly ran his hand down Remy's chest. "Oh yeah, I remember: 'Don't touch me.' Wonder what could of made you act like that." 

Scrambler grinned at the heightened terror in Remy's eyes. 

"Course you were, what? Twelve, thirteen back then. The others might not think that counts." Scrambler continued loosening the gag in Remy's mouth. "But I bet I can get you screaming like that again." 

"Get de hell 'way from me!" Remy demanded. 

"Make me," Scrambler replied, straddling Remy's legs. "Not that you can. Not while I'm blocking that nifty little charge of yours." 

Scrambler forced Remy's head back staring down into his face. "You're not really my type. I mean I can see the attraction, but you're looks just don't get me turned on." Scrambler kissed Remy bruisingly hard, digging his fingers into Remy's jaw until the boy's mouth was forced open, then raping Remy's mouth with his tongue. 

After a long moment Scrambler sat back. "But don't let that make you think I won't go through with it. This isn't about sex, this is about the fact that I can do anything I want to you and I can't think of anything you'd want less." 

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	7. 7 of 13

**Road's End 7/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

"The kid took off," Logan announced on his way out." Lit out the window." 

Scott and Peter hurried to follow the older man outside. "Do you know where he went?" Scott asked. 

"No, but I aim to find out," Logan replied distractedly scanning the ground beneath Remy's window then heading away from the mansion with a determined stride. 

By the time they'd reached the edge of the school grounds both girls had joined them. 

A few minutes later Logan cursed angrily. "Stupid kid, real stupid. You got so caught up in running from us ya walked right into an ambush." 

"So this definitely a rescue mission," Scott summarized. "Wolverine, keep tracking them. Marvel Girl, can you use Cerebro?" 

"Even with Cerebro I probably won't be able to spot Remy," Jean warned. "The Professor can barely lock into his thought patterns on a good day." 

"Look for the people that took him," Cyclops instructed. 

"That could work," Jean said thoughtfully before jogging back toward the house. 

"Colossus go drag Beast away from his computer," Cyclops continued. "Storm take to the air see if..." 

"Too late for that," Wolverine interrupted. "Ambush happened last night, they've had hours to get under cover." 

"I found him," Jean projected into their minds, her mental voice laced with dread and urgency. "Remy's alone with Scrambler, we need to get to them NOW." Along with her words Jean sent Remy's location. 

"On my way," Storm replied summoning her winds to bare her aloft as the others ran for the school's garage. 

"Don't let Scrambler near you," Jean warned. 

Ten minutes later Storm landed roughly in the motel parking lot. A lightening bolt smashed in the door to the room where Remy was being held. 

"Get away from him!" Storm yelled, sending her winds to rip Scrambler away from Remy and send him flying into the ceiling before letting him drop. 

Scrambler pulled himself unsteadily to his feet and Storm hit him with a lightening bolt. He slumped to the ground, stunned. 

"I-I'll have you loose in a minute Remy," Storm said, her gaze skirting away from the raw bite marks scattered across Remy's shoulders. 

The remains of his shirt and coat hung around his bound wrists in rags. Remy drew his knees to his chest and stared across the room uncomprehendingly. 

"Just g-gimme a minute," Storm reiterated, rummaging through Scrambler's pockets. "Where's the freakin' key!" she shouted kicking the unconscious man. 

"Scalphunter," Remy said distantly. 

"I could pick the locks, maybe," Storm volunteered reaching toward Remy. He cringed away from her. Storm drew back. "I'm sorry." 

For a few minutes Remy and Storm simply stared at each other, neither knowing what to do. Then the first faint sparks of Remy's returning power began crackle around his hands. A short time later a glowing nimbus had formed around Remy. The shackles seemed to collect the charge until they disintegrated with a muted pop. 

"I guess that takes care of that," Strom said. "Can you turn that off now?" 

"Gotta leave, dere be others," Remy said. 

Wolverine stepped into the doorway. Remy lunged, grabbing a notepad off the table, charging and throwing it in a split second. 

"Hell kid," Wolverine exclaimed picking himself up after the explosion. 

"Remy?" Cyclops called. "It's just us. You're safe now." 

"Nevah safe," Remy said, cringing back away from the open door. 

"Better with us than with than with them," Storm pointed out. 

"Suppose so," Remy replied looking around worriedly as he left the room. 

"Is it okay for you to be in a car when you're like that?" Jean asked watching the sparks and flames dancing around Remy. 

Remy stopped, eyes closed, head down, he took several deep breaths. The nimbus slowly faded into nothing. "Jus' don' spook me," he said. 

"Why don't we stay," Wolverine suggested. "Finish this once and for all if we fight them now." 

"Non!" Remy exclaimed, the glow of his power erupting again, as Scott said, "We're not take Remy into a battle!" 

"Can't fight 'em, dey take me to him, can't stay!" Remy continued sounding nearly hysterical. 

"You're choice kid, but they're going to keep coming for you," Logan said. "You can't run forever and you've got us to back you up." 

"Non," Remy repeated. 

The drive back to the mansion was silent. Remy sat pressed against the door as far away from the others as possible, flinching at every movement the others made. 

As soon as the van stopped he fled to his room, locking the door and jamming a chair under the doorknob. Then he crumpled to his knees in the far corner, rocking back and forth, body shaking with silent sobs. 

****** ****** ****** 

"He hasn't left his room yet," Xavier said. 

Scott shook his head. "It took three days before he'd even open the door and I'm pretty sure that was only because he needed the food. What are we supposed to do? He won't talk to us. Given how Remy is about telepaths it would probably push him even further off the deep end if you or Jean tried to reach him that way… How are we supposed to help?" 

"Perhaps all we can do is give him time," Xavier replied. "He may need to work through this on his own." 

"I think he's already worked through too much on his own," Scott said. "Maybe that's why he can't trust anyone else." 

****** ****** ****** 

Jean knocked quietly on Remy's door then sat down in the hall, leaning against the wall opposite the door. "I hope you're awake in there Remy," she said. "I don't like talking about this but I thought it might help... I know what it's like being forced to do something you don't want to do. Feeling helpless stripped of control. You're not alone..." 

****** ****** ****** 

"There's a call for you," Scott said, standing outside of Remy's room. "It's Mia, I'm leaving the cordless right by your door okay?" 

As Scott walked away he heard the door open behind him. His shoulders relaxed but he forced himself to keep walking. 

Picking up the phone Remy's body language shifted, forcing an approximation of Mia's confident protector back to the surface, hoping that the shift would carry into his voice. "Little one, you be a'ight?" he asked. 

"Mister Scott said you didn't feel good," Mia said, her voice filled with concern. 

"No cheri, don' worry 'bout me," Remy reassured her. "I be fine." 

"Your friend was worried," Mia pointed out, still uncertain. 

"Scott? He worries 'bout everyt'ing little one." 

****** ****** ****** 

"Remy... um, well, Hank and I thought... we know your duster got wrecked and you always wore it... We thought replacing it would be a better 'get well soon' gift than flowers... I'll just leave it outside the door." 

"T'ank yo' Peter," Remy said without opening the door. 

"You're welcome," Peter replied grinning broadly, eager to tell the rest of the team that Remy was speaking to them again. 

TBC 

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	8. 8 of 13

**Road's End 8/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

Hank signed off from his computer glancing at the clock in disbelief. "How could it be two 'o clock, I could swear I only just got up from dinner..." Hank's stomach rumbled. "Or maybe not, of course it was Jean's night to cook." 

Hank wandered toward the kitchen. "I hope they didn't finish off the midnight emergency pizza." 

The last thing Hank was expecting was to have a hand clapped over his mouth and to be dragged into the den, but the pervious year's events made such incidents less than shocking. 

Before his surprise even registered he'd dropped to one knee, attempting to toss his assailant over his head. 

His attacker foiled the move, keeping his hold on Hank. "Pretty good," Logan's smoke roughened voice whispered in his ear. "Now quiet down." 

Hank rolled his eyes questioningly toward Logan, but received no acknowledgment. He wasn't even sure Logan could see his expression and the hand over his mouth prevented verbal communication so he forced his muscles to relax, his body language surrendering and Logan responded by releasing him. 

"What's going on?" Hank whispered. 

Logan grinned. "Remind me to compliment Jeannie on her cooking tomorrow," he said in a low voice. 

Hank frowned in confusion. "It was abysmal, as always." 

"Yep, bad enough to get Remy out of his room," Logan replied. "Didn't think now was a good time to surprise him." 

"Maybe we should have Jean cook more often," Hank commented. 

"Ain't it your turn to cook tomorrow night?" Logan asked. 

****** ****** ****** 

Peter carefully placed his fork back on his plate after his first bite and pushed back his chair. "Please Hank, whatever this is supposed to be, don't try to make it again, my stomach begs you." 

"Whose turn is it to get take out?" Ororo asked. 

"I got it," Logan volunteered. 

After a few minutes Scott asked. "Well, when are you going?" 

"I believe it is traditional to wait until midnight, so that the cook is either sleeping or convinced that everyone just needs a snack, to spare their feelings," Hank pointed out. 

"Hank, even factoring in pride, I'm willing to bet you won't be able to stomach enough of this… stuff to consider it a meal," Peter pointed out. 

"Actually that's a good idea," Jean announced. "Only Logan, the movie you're thinking about… Don't. I'm sure Hank and I would appreciate another selection as an excuse to keep all of us up and in a known location for the whole night." 

****** ****** ****** 

"Third attempt," Logan said quietly. A concerned look passed around the room. In the background the second movie droned on, unnoticed. They'd decided if Remy still hadn't come downstairs while they were up and about after three checks they'd clear out. 

Ororo's expression took on a determined cast. "Oh this is an important part!" she exclaimed loudly. "Everybody pay attention!" 

"Beautiful darling," Logan said several minutes later. "Worked like a charm." 

"So should I screw-up tomorrow's dinner?" Scott asked. 

"I think he'd get suspicious if we all suddenly couldn't cook," Peter said. 

"And if he thought we were deliberately trying to entice him out of his room he'd get stubborn," Scott sighed. "I guess that means the plan has to go on hold for another three nights." 

"Why Scott, are you saying I can't cook?" Jean asked. 

"Well, um, no, um, of course not," Scott stammered and Jean started giggling. 

"If you must know, I hate cooking and I've been trying to persuade someone to trade me chores since forever," Jean sighed. "But I guess that's on hold indefinitely." 

****** ****** ****** 

Peter fidgeted; out of the corner of his eye he noticed several of the others doing the same. 

For the last three rotten-dinner-and-a-movie nights Remy had stopped in the doorway for a few minutes before retreating back to his room. This time he'd been there for fifteen minutes and the urge to turn around and notice him was becoming a driving force. 

"When'd de lot of yo' become night owls?" Remy asked. 

With a sigh of relief Peter decided they'd been given notice that Remy was ready to stop playing the ghost. He turned to see the younger boy leaning against the door jam. His pose was designed to radiate relaxation, but the wariness in his eyes and the tension throughout his frame made the purposeful casualness a lie. 

"About three weeks ago," Scott replied. "Wanna stick around for the next show? This one's pretty lame, we've all been thinking about skipping on to the next for awhile now." 

"Could see dat," Remy said a hint of a smile hovering around his mouth as he slipped into the room and took a seat near the door. 

The movie wasn't good, but Peter and Scott watched it with an intensity that suggested they would be tested over the material later. Logan slumped down in his chair and quickly fell asleep. Jean and Ororo fell into a mostly telepathic conversation about something neither would remember but that gave them the excuses to face each other and the ability to steal glances at the back of the room out of the corners of their eyes. Hank had apparently selected the most uncomfortable chair in the house because he resettled himself every few minutes. 

While Remy, who they were all covertly watching or single-mindedly ignoring occupied his hands with a variation of solitaire that kept him holding a large part of the deck for the entire movie. 

****** ****** ****** 

Scott waited as Remy cautiously surveyed the kitchen. After a few moments' hesitation he stepped inside. 

"Hi Rem," Scott greeted him quietly. "You decided to get lunch today?" 

"Gettin' tired of de four wall of m' room," Remy admitted. 

"Glad to hear it," Scott said. "So the ankle's all healed up?" 

"Good as new," Remy replied. 

"So you're planning on staying for awhile?" Scott asked. 

"Guess so," Remy replied. "Dis ain't de worst place I could be." 

When the door opened a fan of cards appeared in Remy's hands, only to disappear once he recognized Logan. 

" 'Bout time you started living again, kid," Logan commented. 

Remy glanced away, then his expression hardened with determination. "Could yo' teach me to fight wid'out m' powers?" 

"Sure kid." 

TBC 

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	9. 9 of 13

**Road's End 9/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

Remy and Ororo sat across the table from each other, an elaborate card game involving two decks, most of the table and intense concentration lay spread out between them. 

Conversation was stilted and punctuated with long pauses. 

When the game ended they quietly sorted the decks back out. 

"Are you okay," Ororo asked softly as Remy started to walk away, giving him the option of pretending not to hear her. 

Remy paused. "Yo' came for any t'ing really happened," he said without turning back to face her. "He jus' let a lot of demons out. Took me some time to get dem back where dey belong. T'ought wid m' powers, long as I was careful, I could handle ant'ing. Know dat ain't true now. Do what I can to fix dat, but mostly jus' gotta live wid it." 

****** ****** ****** 

"Yo' wanted to see me?" Remy asked, standing in the door to the library. 

Professor Xavier's gaze lost the distant expression he frequently assumed when using Cerebro as he removed its helmet interface. 

"Hello Remy," Xavier said. "I hear you've decided to stay with us?" 

"Oui." 

"In that case I'd like you to consider enrolling in classes," Xavier suggested cautiously. 

"When do I start?" Remy responded without hesitation. 

Caught unaware, it took Xavier several moments to respond. "I'll have some placement exams ready for you tomorrow," he said. "We can work out a curriculum from there." 

Remy took in Xavier's surprise with a knowing look. "Jus' cause I live on de streets and talk wid an accent, dat don' make me stupid, or unwillin' to learn," he said as he walked away. 

****** ****** ****** 

Logan tossed Remy a bo staff with an easy flick of his wrist. 

"Quoi?" Remy asked turning it over in his hands curiously. 

"Normally you should start with hand-to-hand, but I doubt you're up for that and I'm not in the mood to be blown up if you panic." 

Remy frowned at Logan's assessment of his stability, but nodded his agreement. "What do I do?" he asked as Logan picked up a second bo staff. 

"It's real simple," Logan replied grinning wickedly. "Try to hit me." 

Remy watched how Logan held his staff then shifted his own grip to imitate the older man. "Why do I get de feelin' dat be easier said dan done?" he asked. 

"I only said you had to try," Logan replied, twirling the staff between his hands. "Not that you had to score. For today I'll even promise to stick to defensive moves." 

"Reassurin'," Remy replied, circling Logan warily. "Does dat mean yo' ain't goin' to hit me?" 

"Not so long as you remember to look to your own defenses," Logan replied. "Don't want you learning bad habits or getting too complacent." 

"You t'ink dat could be an issue?" Remy asked skeptically, fainting forward, trying to get the feel of his weapon. 

"With you? Not really," Logan admitted. "Just want you to understand the rules of the game." 

****** ****** ****** 

"The boss says we're taking Gambit tonight," Scalphunter relayed. 

"Why not just wait until he runs again?" Harpooner asked. "Made life real easy last time." 

"He ain't gonna run again," Scalphunter exploded. "We had our chance to do it the easy way, we screwed up. Now the lot of you should be real grateful that Sinister let us have the chance to make it up." 

"Scrambler screwed it up," Arclight commented snidely. 

"Which of us was there with him?" Scalphunter rebuked her before Scrambler could protest. "We get Gambit back tonight or we take his place on the dissection table. You got that?" 

TBC 

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	10. 10 of 13

**Road's End 10/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

Logan slipped into the house like a shadow, but as soon as the door shut behind him he dropped all effort at stealth and sprinted toward the rooms. 

He pounded violently on the first door he came to. "Jeannie! Get the troops rallied!" he yelled. "I'll be outside taking care of our guest, but don't you let 'em catch us unawares if they flank me." 

"I'm on it," Jean yelled back through the door then muttered, "Why couldn't they attack at a decent hour?" 

While Jean telepathically roused her teammates, Wolverine confronted the first of the invaders outside. 

"Ya own me a date girlie," he said finding Arclight approaching the mansion. 

"I was hoping you'd be around," Arclight replied turning to face him. "I hate leaving an opponent standing." 

With that she lashed out with a brutal kick that sent Wolverine flying. 

He rolled to his feet grinning. "Feeling's mutual darling," he told her dodging her next blow to land one of his own. 

Elsewhere Beast exited the mansion through his window. Balancing nimbly on the ledge, he scanned the grounds looking for the threat. He spotted Vertigo only a moment before the green and white haired woman noticed him. 

Beast leapt into action only to find up and down had become purely theoretical concepts. He landed in a heap and didn't rise. 

"Push over," Vertigo smirked, strolling past the downed X-man. 

Jean beat futilely against the shields protecting the invaders' minds when she felt Xavier's presence in her mind. 

"They were expecting a psionic attack," he projected. "But if we join our strength we may succeed in breaching their defenses." 

"Lets target Scrambler," Jean suggested. "I've got plans for that sleaze." 

"Agreed, but you will refrain from vengeance on Remy's behalf," Xavier responded. 

On the front lawn Colossus shifted to his metallic form in time to ward off Scalphunter's shots. The Marauder quickly traded his gun for another; larger, model from the arsenal he wore. Before he could fire the Russian X-Man charged him. 

Just outside the kitchen door Scott dove for the lawn as one of Harpooner's projectiles passed through the space he'd just been occupying. Looking up from where he lay, Scott touched the side of his visor and the force of his concussive blast smashed Harpooner into a near by tree. 

****** ****** ****** 

"Remy, come on!" Storm urged. "I'm supposed to get you to safety." 

The younger boy stood, back pressed to the wall, peering into the shadows. "He's comin' Remy's voice was choked with fear. "Can feel de evil of him in de air. He's comin' for me hisself dis time." 

"I'm trying to protect you," Storm pled, tugging at the boy's hand. Remy quickly pulled free. "Scott has the danger room programmed to defend you. We don't want you to get hurt, not like Bobby did. Please Remy!" 

"S' no use," Remy said. "Not 'gainst him." 

"Then it doesn't matter, so come on!" Storm exclaimed in frustration. "You can't give up without a fight!" 

"Gonna fight," Remy protested. "Will loose, mais..." 

"Then give yourself the best chance you've got," Storm insisted. "Don't defeat yourself for him." 

Remy's eyes blazed as the fear in his expression shifted to determination, "D'accord." 

****** ****** ****** 

Arclight fell to the ground, hamstrung by Wolverine's claws. Even as she watched the damage she had inflicted on the shorter mutant faded. 

"Yield girl," he told her. "Ya lost, don't make me kill you, it upset the others when I do things like that." 

"Haven't lost yet," Arclight replied, pressing her hands to the ground. Under her ministrations the solid turf shook itself into dust. Several feet down a water line broke, rapidly turning the lawn into a quagmire. 

Logan sank in to his thighs, the weight of his adamantium-laced skeleton dragging him down. "I've fought in worse," he warned Arclight, undaunted. 

"Odds are even again," She replied with a shrug, letting the oozing mud take some of the weight from her injured leg. 

****** ****** ****** 

As Colossus pounded Scalphunter into unconsciousness Scrambler snuck up behind him, at Scrambler's touch the other mutant's armor reverted to flesh. 

"Let's see if bullets bounce off you now," Scrambler announced, backing away as he aimed his pistol. 

Then to the Russian's surprise the smaller man's expression went slack, the gun dropping from suddenly nerveless fingers. 

"We've got him," Jean's mental voice assured her teammate. "Peter get back to the house, you're out of it." 

"How are we doing?" Colossus asked, reluctant to abandon the field. 

"Storm's still with Remy. Wolverine is having a blast fighting with their strong woman; I don't think that's going to last much longer. The green-haired witch knocked out both Scott and Hank, but they're going to be okay and she's the only one of them left. We've got a plan for dealing with her," Jean reported. "So get back to the house, it's all over except for the shouting." 

Peter smiled in appreciation as Scrambler was marched toward Vertigo's position by the telepaths like a puppet. 

TBC 

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	11. 11 of 13

**Road's End 11/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

Storm's mouth dropped open in shock as a teresscat deposited Sinister, a tall, pale, vampire of a man with a smile like a shark's, into their living room. 

Three of Remy's cards, heavily charged, struck the man in the chest before he'd taken a step away from his portal. The resultant explosions knocked him a step back, but did no real damage to him. 

An evil, obscenely confident laugh filled the room. "My little Gambit, did you honestly think I would allow you to leave my service after what you had seen?" 

"Did yo' t'ink I EVAH help yo' 'gain after what I saw?" Remy shot back, along with a handful of cards. 

"I thought you were an intelligent child Remy," Sinister replied. "I thought you realized the truth of your situation. I've favored you, even above my other agents. Your fascinating talent for making people trust you was of value to me and too potentially delicate to risk damaging with invasive experiments. That, however, is no longer a consideration." 

"Not goin' back wid yo'," Remy said grabbing a lamp and charging it, the wild fire of his power beginning to dance across his skin. Storm added her lightening to Remy's attack. Again Sinister shrugged off the assault. 

He answered their attack with lasers shot from his hands. Remy dodged, knowing the other mutant's abilities and anticipating his response. Storm wasn't so lucky, the barrage sent her flying into the couch where she lay, stunned. 

The explosions drew Xavier, Jean and Colossus into the room. A blood spattered Wolverine, supporting a reeling Cyclops and Beast appeared a few moments later. 

Sinister surveyed his opposition with satisfaction. "Even in your rebellion you bring me one final catch," he said with satisfaction. 

A second teresscat opened spilling Sinister's new recruits into the mansion, another green haired girl with a twisted expression of hatred on her face, a man whose costume dripped with blades, another, inhumanly large man and a regretfully familiar face. 

"What is it with this bunch and green haired chicks?" Jean asked sarcastically as Colossus fought to rearmor himself in preparation for another battle. 

Wolverine stepped away from Beast and Cyclops, snarling, "Sabretooth." 

"Bet ya didn't expect to see me runt," the larger feral said. "Gotta love that healing factor." 

"There is something fundamentally wrong about you," Xavier said, scanning the woman. 

"Everything is wrong about me, I am Malice," she replied. 

"Quite frankly Gambit, this is the best lot you have ever brought me," Sinister said as his minions advanced. 

"Non!" Remy screamed, the eldritch flame of his power bursting into a bonfire. Dust motes in the air exploded with sharp pops as the flames reached for Sinister, locking the two of them together. 

"What's he charging?" Cyclops asked. 

"Maybe the air itself," Jean guessed. 

"Jean, contain it!" Beast exclaimed urgently. 

Remy and Sinister were consumed in a whirling mass of plasma Jean groaned, falling to her knees from the strain of holding back the explosion while simultaneously wrapping a layer of protection around Remy. 

The flames died away to show both Sinister and Remy swaying, blistered and burned in a blasted hollow that had been part of the room. 

Cyclops hit Sinister with an optic blast, leaving the villainous creature's shoulder a blasted crater. Reeling under the assault Sinister opened a final teresscat and fled the battle. 

"Oh shit!" the knife wielder exclaimed going into a spin. 

The big man lunged for the door only to find himself trading blows with Colossus. 

The woman simply stood in the middle of the room, her expression uncomprehending, her eyes focused inward. 

Suddenly the air was filled with flying metal, then all the knives stopped, hanging dead in the air. 

"Good work Marvel Girl," Cyclops said only to find his teammate unconscious on the floor. "Jean!" 

In the center of the room the green haired woman levitated from the floor. "You used me!" She shrieked and the knives reversed course heading for her erstwhile allies. 

"Peter! Duck!" Beast yelled. The metallic man hit the floor moments before the two Marauders where filleted by their own weapons. Then the green haired woman smashed through the front window and fled into the night sky. 

Scott surveyed the remains of the living room and his team. Jean lay in his arms out cold. Hank, limping heavily, made his way across the room to check Ororo's still form, which was draped across an over turned couch. Peter knelt beside Remy, hesitant to even touch the badly burned boy. 

The area around Remy was beyond scorched, everything that had been within the sphere of Jean's telekinetic shield had simply ceased to exist, dissolved down to it's component atoms. Two dead Marauders lay in pools of their own blood. 

Xavier looked nearly as shell shocked as Scott felt as their eyes met across the trashed room. 

"What happened to Logan?" Scott asked. 

"I believe he and Sabretooth took their fight outside," Hank commented, easing Ororo into a more comfortable position. "I guess they didn't want any interruptions." 

TBC 

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	12. 12 of 13

**Road's End 12/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

"... Wolverine turned up around mid-morning, clothing reduced to rags, dripping with blood and cursing. We decided not to ask." Jean said, leaning back in her chair gazing up at the infirmary ceiling. "Malice was actually two people, the Professor managed to get the personality that didn't belong boxed up in her head. The real owner of the body bugged out before he could get much more than a name: Lorna." 

"Arclight, Blockbuster and Riptide are all dead. Vertigo and Scrambler managed to pull themselves together and escape while the Professor and I where thinking about other problems. But Scalphunter and Harpooner have been reprogrammed as useful members of society, with no superpower to speak of." 

"That's pretty much all the news," Jean said. "So what shall we talk about now?" 

She glanced over at the boy lying beneath the protective tenting on the bed; his skin covered in numerous raw burns and saw his eyes were open. "Hey Remy, you're awake finally," Jean said softly, smiling. "We all thought it was a good idea to make sure you didn't wake up alone down here, given how you are about labs. Unfortunately you do have to stay here until you're skin heals up; burns can get infected. I did my best to keep the explosion away from you, but you charged up the dead cells in your skin, as well as everything else. I couldn't get those away from you." 

Remy's eyes crossed as he tried to glare at the venelator tube in his mouth. 

"Oh right," Jean exclaimed. "I can take that out now that you're awake. Just hold on, I need to get a mask and gloves." 

Once the tube was out Remy whispered. "T'roat 'urts, 'ead's fuzzy." 

Jean brought him a cup of ice chips. "Suck on these, it'll help the throat," she told him. "You're probably feeling out of it because of the pain killers, trust me you're better off that way for a while." 

She paused for a long moment, her gaze fixing on the floor. "Or it might have something to do with the Professor and I breaking your mental shields," she admitted guiltily. "We had to get into your mind. We're pretty sure you stuck to the molecular level back there against Sinister. You know, releasing the energy in the chemical bonds between O2 and N2, stuff like that, but Hank was worried that you were getting into atomic bonds. That made the Professor realize that there's no reason you couldn't do exactly that. That would be like setting off a nuclear bomb, it'd kill you and who knows how many others. You really don't need that kind of power, especially when your explosions get a little out of control when you're upset. The Professor and I sort of capped off your power. Your shields should heal up with a little time, but that could be affecting you now." 

"S'okay," Remy said, his voice a faint sigh, still more than half out of it and responding to the emotions Jean was projecting rather than to her words. 

Jean smiled in relief. 

A few minutes later Remy drifted back to sleep. 

****** ****** ****** 

"Hey Remy," Scott said taking a seat beside the younger boy's bed. "You're looking better." 

"Dey take away dat tent t'ing," Remy replied sounding very happy about the fact. "T'ing was makin' me t'ink 'bout becomin' claustrophobic." 

"I don't blame you," Scott replied. "Um... I really hate to ask, especially since you're still not feeling real good, but that stuff Sinister was talking about; what did you do for him? What does he do?" 

"Yo' t'ink mad scientist yo' got Essex," Remy said after a pause. His gaze became distant, focusing on some scene from the past. "De t'ings he done to people… mutants, couldn' believe what he'd done to those poor people." 

"People you lured in for him," Scott realized. "He said you make people trust you. Blowing things up isn't the extent of your mutant abilities; you're some kind of psion. That's probably why you're so hard for Jean and the Professor to read... I know you Remy, at least I think I do, you're not heartless, how could you do that to someone?" 

"I didn' know!" Remy exclaimed. "He helped me. I t'ought he was GOOD. I nevah dream he could… dat ANYONE could do t'ings like dat to another person... I t'ought I'd seen everyt'ing... I nevah imagined." 

"You should have," Scott replied without stopping to think. 

"Oui," Remy agreed tiredly. "Once I saw, I did what I could. Couldn't save 'em. Blew de whole place up, hope I put most of 'em out of deir misery. Too scare to go lookin' for other bases, should of, I know, couldn', didn' want to die dat bad." 

"You killed them?" Scott was clearly horrified. 

"It was de best I could offer dem!" Remy yelled back. "I had to do somet'ing!" 

"Killing them?!" Scott exclaimed. 

"It was bettah dan leavin' dem to him," Remy said. 

"If he was that bad how could you have not known what Sinister was? I mean wasn't the name a clue? Did you think it was an affection?" Scott asked, his voice shocked and confused as much as angry. 

"Jus' stupid that way, I guess," Remy replied dully. "Richard say he like me, he goin' to help me, save me, make me normal then he beat me half to death an' try to strangle me. Essex say he help me deal wid m' powers, give me a place where dey won' hate me for m' eyes, den he make me worse dan a murder. Xavier say he teach me, give me a place wid others like me. I'm waitin' for de other shoe to drop." 

"Professor Xavier isn't like that," Scott protested. 

"Didn' t'ink de other were 'like dat' either, but sometimes yo' need what dey be offerin' so bad dat knowin' bettah don' mattah," Remy replied tiredly, turning away from Scott, shutting his eyes and pretending to be asleep. 

Scott stood there staring down at Remy for a long time. "There isn't any hidden agenda this time," he said finally. "You're not going to be betrayed, I promise." 

Remy remained silent, shutting Scott out of his consciousness. After several minutes Scott sighed and left. 

TBC 

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	13. 13 of 13

**Road's End 13/13**

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

"I think your eyelashes are starting to grow back," Ororo commented when Remy woke up to find her sitting beside him. "But you're going to have to live with shorter hair than Jean's for a while." 

"I don' make people trust me no more," Remy told her. "Didn' know I evah did till Essex told me… If yo' go to hell it ought to be on account of yo' own mistakes, not cause of m' stupidity, yo' understand?" 

"I would hardly suspect you of making me trust you when I don't," Ororo replied. "I like you, but I know what living like you did does to a person, even without Sinister's involvement. You don't stay alive long if you don't have an ability and willingness to look to yourself first and damn all others some of the times. Someday I might trust you, someday after I trust myself not to fall back into that mode of being." 

"S' good to hear," Remy said. "Ain't too comfortable bein' trusted right now anyways. Don' want to get people hurt like dat 'gain." 

****** ****** ****** 

"Here kid," Logan said tossing a slender package into Remy's lap. "Figured you could stash this a bit easier than your normal bo staff." 

Remy opened the package and grinned delightedly as he studied the heavy cylinder. It was barely longer than span of his joined hands when collapsed but extended to five and half feet at the touch of a button. 

"It's adamantium," Logan explained. "Gives it plenty of strength even though it's hollow. The ends are weighted with lead to give it the mass to do real damage." 

"She's sweet," Remy said. "Dis mean yo' ain't mad at me like Scott?" 

"I'm not mad," Logan said. "Neither is Scott, he just let his mouth out pace his brain for a awhile there, still can't really get his head around how a kid as young as you got into that ugly of a mess in the first place, but that's his problem, not yours." 

"Believe me, it wasn' hard." 

"Yeah, trouble's the easiest thing in the world to find," Logan commiserated. 

****** ****** ****** 

"Remy, I apologize for entering your mind knowing how you dislike such intrusions," Xavier said calmly. "However, the circumstances warranted such a liberty." 

"Would it have killed yo' to wait till yo' could ask m' permission?" Remy replied bitterly. 

"In light of the possible danger..." Xavier began only to be interrupted by Remy. 

"I ain't chargin' nothin' when I'm out," he snapped. "Only reason to do it den was so yo' don' have to ask. Figure dat mean yo' planned on doin' it whatevah I want. Don' see you offerin' to undo t'ings now either." 

Xavier frowned. "I hope this won't change your mind about staying with us. You are quite intelligent, but with little more than a sixth grade education and no marketable skills you will end up staying on the streets until Sinister or some other ill-intentioned person takes an interest in you. Whether you like me or not I'm the only one offering you a way out." 

"Intentions, pah! Dey don' mean rein," Remy replied harshly. "Don' like no one playin' God wid me." Then the boy seemed to collapse in on himself. "But yo' right; I ain't got no choice, so I stay." 

Xavier softened, "I don't mean to make you feel trapped," he said. "I hope in time you'll come to understand I acted in your best interests and that you will be happy here." 

"Yo' see what good intentions be wort'," Remy sighed. "De ones wid'out dose nevah 'pologized for what dey do to me." 

The End 

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